Wednesday, November 27, 2013
On the Grateful Lifestyle and Its Challenges
It’s not always easy to take the time to truly reflect and feel grateful for the things we have. Our government has given us the fourth Thursday of November to celebrate life’s blessings, but true gratitude should be an ongoing lifestyle choice. I will be the first to tell you that I do not do this, but I also know that I am not alone in that. Often, our sense of ingratitude is derived from one of two sources.
You Can’t Always Get What You Want
Deep down, there is a little Veruca Salt in all of us. We want what we want, and we want it now. We have goals and desires, and we are so singularly focused on them that anything less than those things is considered a massive disappointment. In and of itself, that is not a bad thing. It is good to aspire to new heights. It safeguards against complacency. But in being so single-minded, we lose sight of two things. One, we do not take joy in our journeys. Our desire for instant gratification can be a detriment. Successes are sweeter after failures, and the most satisfying successes take time and effort. If we always got everything we wanted as soon as we wanted it, we would quickly become numb to success. Success is a blessing and should be treated as such. Second, our desires can often outweigh our common sense. I will never forget when one of my bosses told me “Mr. Duehr, the things we want are often the things we should not have.” We sometimes get so disappointed by the fact that our lives do not meet the ideals we have set for them that we ignore the fact that many of those ideals are not the best things for us, and we neglect to acknowledge the good things we do have.
“And I still love the things I lost that brought me here…”
Perhaps my greatest barrier to a grateful lifestyle is the memory of what used to be. I have a hard time getting past the things I have lost. I’ve often been guilty of living in the past; this much I admit. It is difficult enjoy the present when the present seems inferior to the past. I would give almost anything to alter the course of 2013. I miss how my job once was. I miss having my friends around. I miss the hope that certain relationships once brought. But time has created separation between myself and those things. I know I can’t be the only one who struggles with that, but it’s not healthy. The past was great. Cherish it. But be thankful for the present and hopeful for the future.
“You know what the secret to happiness is? Wanting what you have.”
I used the above quote in my Thanksgiving 2011 post, and I like it so much that I decided to use it again. I spend too much too much time thinking about what I used to have or never will have that I lose sight of what I do have. My needs are covered. After a rocky few months, I have returned to full time employment and teaching my own class. I may not see my friends often anymore, but I still have people who genuinely care about me and want to see me prosper. I am mindful of the fact that I do still have goals and aspirations and am still on the road to where I want to be, but I am thankful for the progress I have made. This year has been far from easy, but I truly believe that by being mindful of the blessings I have been afforded, things will seem more hopeful. While none of us live in perfection, we do have a lot to be thankful for. It’s time to actively take notice.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Richards Revisited
I spend a lot of time thinking about the cyclical nature of life. When things are particularly rough (as they have been this year), I am quick to remind myself that things will come around. Conversely, I really try to find enjoyment in the good times, fleeting as they may be. Some periods of our lives seem better or worse in hindsight, as recency bias fades away. However, the most special times of our lives are just as amazing now as they seemed at the time. My time at Richards was one of those times. Since today marks five years to the day of my last day there as a student teacher, I figure that recency bias has worn off enough to objectively write about my time there.
Most people do not know that I wasn’t actually supposed to do my student teaching at Richards. I was set for placement at Lincoln-Way East High School when I found out in spring that they had terminated their contracts with all student teachers for that school year. Some of my former high school administrators and teachers tried to pull some strings to get me at Tinley Park High School, but they were overruled by district personnel. It was not until mid-summer that I found out I was going to complete my student teaching at Harold L. Richards High School. The superintendent of my high school district (who was my former associate principal) had a close relationship with the coordinator of social studies for District 218, and he put in a good word for me. By the beginning of July, my placement was finally set, and I was good to go.
I was given three World History and two Honors United States History courses and the opportunity to learn under Mr. Montes. Montes was a sharp guy. While I was used to teachers who pretty much only taught one way (lecture style), Montes varied his lessons a lot. There were the traditional lessons at times, but he was a huge proponent of experiential learning. Seeing those types of lessons really opened the floodgates for me in terms of broadening my horizons and becoming more innovative as a teacher (skills I would definitely need at AAA Academy).
Fortunately, I was able to observe under him for two weeks before taking over any of the classes myself. Quite honestly, I was scared to death of the kids. I was never the most confident guy in the world to that point, and the idea of being a 21 year old teaching 16 and 17 year old kids was daunting, to say the least. Those first two weeks I wanted to just crawl into a corner and hide. The kids later (mostly) jokingly referred to me as “the creepy guy in the back” during that period.
Something crazy happened once I started to teach. I actually started to get comfortable. Instead of trying to be Montes Jr. I decided to be me, or “Mr. D.”, as my student aide called me (which stuck). I taught the lessons, but I tried to make connections in ways that hopefully resonated with my audience. Lame jokes and pop culture references abounded, and we even had “Techno Tuesday” in my first period class.
I was able to quickly develop good relationships with a significant percentage of my 125 students. I think we were able to connect so quickly because of how close we were in age. I understood and had a lot of patience with them because I was not all that far removed from being in that stage of life myself. I couldn’t get through the hallways in any sort of reasonable time because of how often I’d get stopped by kids. I never found my seat at the football games because I’d be engaged in all sorts of fun conversations. For one of the first times in my life, I really felt like I belonged.
Now that I’m a bit older and well-removed from my time there, I can admit that I was far from perfect during my time there. As a student teacher (and even during your career as a full-time teacher), you are learning on the fly. Perfection is not a reasonable goal; progress is. A lot of it stemmed from the fact that I was becoming popular with the kids. Popularity breeds a false sense of accomplishment and an inflated sense of your abilities. Too often, I wanted to be their friends and be one of those “cool” teachers. I never should have accepted their MySpace or Facebook friend requests until they were out of high school. Put bluntly, I was a young kid who thought I knew everything. I didn’t always take advice well. Most of the time, I would ignore it. My preparation was never an issue, but my classroom management often was. I was far too laid back, and in turn was far too lax with the students. Because I liked them so much, I wanted to see them succeed, and I wasn’t firm enough with them. Deadlines often got extended. Our class was far too loud. One student was so comfortable with me that he brought a roll of pennies to hurl at a freshman. I wasn’t all that good at keeping ahead of the procedural paper trail, but I learned from that by the time I moved on to my full-time gig.
Not all students liked me, either, but that comes with the territory. I am the only teacher I know that has received a hate message in a bottle from a student. It was an extreme measure, but it was not entirely uncalled for. He felt that I did not do enough to keep some of the other students from bothering him. I felt that he was an agitator to them. The reality was somewhere in between.
The lessons were fun. I’ll never forget the token trading activity we did during the Ancient African unit, nor will I forget breaking up the class into different city-states for our version of the Greek Olympics. The kids were engaged, and for many of them, I was able to see definite progress.
Montes and I differed in our methods of dealing with students. I did not always agree, but he was the veteran and I was the rookie, and he truly did know better. Though Montes and I fell out of touch immediately after student teaching, he and Mr. Gavin (another social studies teacher and former student teacher of Montes) were invaluable as mentors to me during that time. It upsets me that I never got to thank Mr. Gavin for looking out for me before he died. I don’t want the same to happen with Montes.
I only spent 62 days at Richards High School, but I have a lifetime of memories. I could probably fill up another five blog posts detailing them. From the botched disaster drill to that Civil War role-playing activity that went horribly wrong to Lyons passing gas in a fan to Babalou singing inappropriate song lyrics during class to Connect Four tournaments to the guy in fifth period cutting his long blond hair into a purple Mohawk because I sarcastically said I’d give him extra credit for it, some of my finest memories occurred in that classroom.
There are two things I was able to take from Richards that value more than most things in my life. First, I learned how to really be an effective teacher. It took me a while to put the pieces together, but Montes and Gavin gave the tools and had patience with me when I didn’t get things right. My mistakes refined me, and I have succeeded as a teacher since because I was given that opportunity to rise and fall on my own merits. The other thing I was able to take was the number of former students I still consider friends to this day. I feel like I learned more from some of them than they ever learned from me. I still keep a letter from one of those students in my car to read whenever I am having a particularly hard day on the job. Now that they are in their early twenties and I’m in my mid-twenties, we really seem like peers. I am so proud of so many of them, and I am constantly excited to see where their roads are going to take them.
To Montes, thank you. To you unfortunate 125 kids who had to be my guinea pigs for 12 weeks, thank you. Because of you, I am who I am today. I’m not the creepy guy in the back anymore. I have confidence in my abilities, and I have been able to grow in those abilities. My time with you was one of the most exciting and enjoyable periods of my life. I hope my time with you was a fraction as meaningful to you as it was to me.
Most people do not know that I wasn’t actually supposed to do my student teaching at Richards. I was set for placement at Lincoln-Way East High School when I found out in spring that they had terminated their contracts with all student teachers for that school year. Some of my former high school administrators and teachers tried to pull some strings to get me at Tinley Park High School, but they were overruled by district personnel. It was not until mid-summer that I found out I was going to complete my student teaching at Harold L. Richards High School. The superintendent of my high school district (who was my former associate principal) had a close relationship with the coordinator of social studies for District 218, and he put in a good word for me. By the beginning of July, my placement was finally set, and I was good to go.
I was given three World History and two Honors United States History courses and the opportunity to learn under Mr. Montes. Montes was a sharp guy. While I was used to teachers who pretty much only taught one way (lecture style), Montes varied his lessons a lot. There were the traditional lessons at times, but he was a huge proponent of experiential learning. Seeing those types of lessons really opened the floodgates for me in terms of broadening my horizons and becoming more innovative as a teacher (skills I would definitely need at AAA Academy).
Fortunately, I was able to observe under him for two weeks before taking over any of the classes myself. Quite honestly, I was scared to death of the kids. I was never the most confident guy in the world to that point, and the idea of being a 21 year old teaching 16 and 17 year old kids was daunting, to say the least. Those first two weeks I wanted to just crawl into a corner and hide. The kids later (mostly) jokingly referred to me as “the creepy guy in the back” during that period.
Something crazy happened once I started to teach. I actually started to get comfortable. Instead of trying to be Montes Jr. I decided to be me, or “Mr. D.”, as my student aide called me (which stuck). I taught the lessons, but I tried to make connections in ways that hopefully resonated with my audience. Lame jokes and pop culture references abounded, and we even had “Techno Tuesday” in my first period class.
I was able to quickly develop good relationships with a significant percentage of my 125 students. I think we were able to connect so quickly because of how close we were in age. I understood and had a lot of patience with them because I was not all that far removed from being in that stage of life myself. I couldn’t get through the hallways in any sort of reasonable time because of how often I’d get stopped by kids. I never found my seat at the football games because I’d be engaged in all sorts of fun conversations. For one of the first times in my life, I really felt like I belonged.
Now that I’m a bit older and well-removed from my time there, I can admit that I was far from perfect during my time there. As a student teacher (and even during your career as a full-time teacher), you are learning on the fly. Perfection is not a reasonable goal; progress is. A lot of it stemmed from the fact that I was becoming popular with the kids. Popularity breeds a false sense of accomplishment and an inflated sense of your abilities. Too often, I wanted to be their friends and be one of those “cool” teachers. I never should have accepted their MySpace or Facebook friend requests until they were out of high school. Put bluntly, I was a young kid who thought I knew everything. I didn’t always take advice well. Most of the time, I would ignore it. My preparation was never an issue, but my classroom management often was. I was far too laid back, and in turn was far too lax with the students. Because I liked them so much, I wanted to see them succeed, and I wasn’t firm enough with them. Deadlines often got extended. Our class was far too loud. One student was so comfortable with me that he brought a roll of pennies to hurl at a freshman. I wasn’t all that good at keeping ahead of the procedural paper trail, but I learned from that by the time I moved on to my full-time gig.
Not all students liked me, either, but that comes with the territory. I am the only teacher I know that has received a hate message in a bottle from a student. It was an extreme measure, but it was not entirely uncalled for. He felt that I did not do enough to keep some of the other students from bothering him. I felt that he was an agitator to them. The reality was somewhere in between.
The lessons were fun. I’ll never forget the token trading activity we did during the Ancient African unit, nor will I forget breaking up the class into different city-states for our version of the Greek Olympics. The kids were engaged, and for many of them, I was able to see definite progress.
Montes and I differed in our methods of dealing with students. I did not always agree, but he was the veteran and I was the rookie, and he truly did know better. Though Montes and I fell out of touch immediately after student teaching, he and Mr. Gavin (another social studies teacher and former student teacher of Montes) were invaluable as mentors to me during that time. It upsets me that I never got to thank Mr. Gavin for looking out for me before he died. I don’t want the same to happen with Montes.
I only spent 62 days at Richards High School, but I have a lifetime of memories. I could probably fill up another five blog posts detailing them. From the botched disaster drill to that Civil War role-playing activity that went horribly wrong to Lyons passing gas in a fan to Babalou singing inappropriate song lyrics during class to Connect Four tournaments to the guy in fifth period cutting his long blond hair into a purple Mohawk because I sarcastically said I’d give him extra credit for it, some of my finest memories occurred in that classroom.
There are two things I was able to take from Richards that value more than most things in my life. First, I learned how to really be an effective teacher. It took me a while to put the pieces together, but Montes and Gavin gave the tools and had patience with me when I didn’t get things right. My mistakes refined me, and I have succeeded as a teacher since because I was given that opportunity to rise and fall on my own merits. The other thing I was able to take was the number of former students I still consider friends to this day. I feel like I learned more from some of them than they ever learned from me. I still keep a letter from one of those students in my car to read whenever I am having a particularly hard day on the job. Now that they are in their early twenties and I’m in my mid-twenties, we really seem like peers. I am so proud of so many of them, and I am constantly excited to see where their roads are going to take them.
To Montes, thank you. To you unfortunate 125 kids who had to be my guinea pigs for 12 weeks, thank you. Because of you, I am who I am today. I’m not the creepy guy in the back anymore. I have confidence in my abilities, and I have been able to grow in those abilities. My time with you was one of the most exciting and enjoyable periods of my life. I hope my time with you was a fraction as meaningful to you as it was to me.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
The Problem of Caring
Confession time: I have often preached balance, both in conversations and on my blog, but I am pretty bad at it. Actually, “pretty bad” is far too kind. I am miserably imbalanced in some areas. Particularly, I have an issue when it comes to caring.
When I get an idea in my head, I devote nearly all my time and energy to it. In some cases, this can be a good thing. Some of my greatest accomplishments can be attributed to the relentless pursuit I made toward my goals. I was able to lose significant amounts of weight twice and run two marathons. My drive got me there.
However, I am learning that it doesn’t always work that way. Sometimes, the more I care, the more I press. When I was in high school, my #1 goal was to receive a full scholarship to college. Since my athletic skills were decent but not elite, I knew that a scholarship would have to come as a result of my academic abilities. My school of choice (and eventual alma mater) awarded full scholarships with a composite ACT score of 34. I studied my rear off for that. I worked and worked and took the test a number of times. I got a 33.25. I missed by one question.
Years later, I worked as a tutor and ACT instructor at a learning center. In order to become an ACT instructor at the center, I had to take the ACT all over again. At least I was told I had to; as time went on, I began to believe that they only made me take the test to see how “smart” I actually was. I really didn’t care how I did. There was no stress on me at all. I got a 35.
My greatest exhibition of imbalance comes in my relationships with the opposite sex. Things are usually great with someone before I realize I have a romantic interest in them. Once I come to that realization, I usually bring about my own death knell. I do too much. I try too hard. It’s not pretty, and honestly, it doesn’t work. In my younger days, it usually led to a major blowup between me and the object of my affection culminating in me being told off.
What scares me sometimes is the success I have in things when I no longer care about them. As I said before, I did better on the ACT when there was no pressure on me. The same people who blow up at me generally tend to change their opinion of me when I no longer give a care about them. As long as I don’t reciprocate their care, things are alright. Once the care returns, the cycle continues.
This presents a problem. Obviously, caring about something signifies that we desire success in that area. Once we want something, we start to care about it. That is natural. It would be odd if we did not care about the things we wanted and cared about the things we did want.
So, can the problem of caring be solved? I think so, to an extent. I can’t always change what I care about, but I can do my best to limit the pressure I put on myself when I do start to care about something. I cannot put all my eggs in one basket, so to speak. Sometimes I spend so much time worrying about failure that I do not put myself in a position to succeed. Failure happens, and success takes time. Balance is out there. Maybe I’ll find it someday. Maybe.
When I get an idea in my head, I devote nearly all my time and energy to it. In some cases, this can be a good thing. Some of my greatest accomplishments can be attributed to the relentless pursuit I made toward my goals. I was able to lose significant amounts of weight twice and run two marathons. My drive got me there.
However, I am learning that it doesn’t always work that way. Sometimes, the more I care, the more I press. When I was in high school, my #1 goal was to receive a full scholarship to college. Since my athletic skills were decent but not elite, I knew that a scholarship would have to come as a result of my academic abilities. My school of choice (and eventual alma mater) awarded full scholarships with a composite ACT score of 34. I studied my rear off for that. I worked and worked and took the test a number of times. I got a 33.25. I missed by one question.
Years later, I worked as a tutor and ACT instructor at a learning center. In order to become an ACT instructor at the center, I had to take the ACT all over again. At least I was told I had to; as time went on, I began to believe that they only made me take the test to see how “smart” I actually was. I really didn’t care how I did. There was no stress on me at all. I got a 35.
My greatest exhibition of imbalance comes in my relationships with the opposite sex. Things are usually great with someone before I realize I have a romantic interest in them. Once I come to that realization, I usually bring about my own death knell. I do too much. I try too hard. It’s not pretty, and honestly, it doesn’t work. In my younger days, it usually led to a major blowup between me and the object of my affection culminating in me being told off.
What scares me sometimes is the success I have in things when I no longer care about them. As I said before, I did better on the ACT when there was no pressure on me. The same people who blow up at me generally tend to change their opinion of me when I no longer give a care about them. As long as I don’t reciprocate their care, things are alright. Once the care returns, the cycle continues.
This presents a problem. Obviously, caring about something signifies that we desire success in that area. Once we want something, we start to care about it. That is natural. It would be odd if we did not care about the things we wanted and cared about the things we did want.
So, can the problem of caring be solved? I think so, to an extent. I can’t always change what I care about, but I can do my best to limit the pressure I put on myself when I do start to care about something. I cannot put all my eggs in one basket, so to speak. Sometimes I spend so much time worrying about failure that I do not put myself in a position to succeed. Failure happens, and success takes time. Balance is out there. Maybe I’ll find it someday. Maybe.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
So You Really Want to Know How I've Been?
This is the post I never really wanted to write. However, it is significantly more convenient to write this than have to tell the same stories three dozen times. Since the middle of August, my life has been an absolute roller coaster. Scratch that. It has felt more like a bottomless pit. Every time I think that I have reached the bottom, I find I still have a bit more tumbling to do.
It started in the middle of August. I had not yet received my assignment for the following school year. I honestly didn’t think anything of it, as the school often flies by the seat of its pants and very little is ever known in advance. The social worker had texted me to get my input on a project, so I was feeling good about things. A few days later, I received my official notice that I had to report the following week for teacher orientation.
When we arrived at orientation, we were informed by the school’s director that decreases in both enrollment and public funding had led to the staff size getting drastically cut. Two days before the school year was supposed to begin, a sizable number of teachers were informed that they would be laid off. Unfortunately, I was one of these teachers. We were all still expected to come the next day for orientation, and the social worker and I wound up giving a killer presentation (despite the fact that I no longer was an active member of the staff).
Because the ax dropped so close to the beginning of the school year, I was in a bind concerning what to do. I had a great relationship with the staff and students, so I offered to volunteer in the afternoons to maintain a presence at the school. The school was more than willing to accept my free labor. In the meantime I applied for the few jobs that were available, thinking nothing of it considering how competitive the job market has been. To my surprise, my year of experience made me instantly more attractive. I received interviews at three schools: two public junior high schools and one alternative high school.
The first interview at a public school did not go as well as I would have liked. They utilized a number of specific programs that I did not have experience using, and I did not get that job. The interview went well with the alternative high school, and I was offered the job. Shortly after that, I had to meet with a high-ranking district administrator, and she and I seemed to have some philosophical differences concerning education and classroom management. After meeting with her, I was unsure whether or not I still had the position, so I interviewed with the other junior high (where two of my students from last school year happen to attend). The interview went well, and the superintendent called me to come in to discuss the position.
I was very excited to meet with the superintendent, and from our conversation on the phone I was led to believe that he was going to offer me the position. It was not until midway through our face to face conversation that I discovered that I was merely a finalist for the position. A few days later I found out that he decided to go with the other finalist. I was more than a bit miffed at being misled, but I was not bitter.
At this point, I decided to accept the teaching position at the alternative high school and was given a start date. I hoped that the transition would be smooth. It was not. I was thrown into the fire. When I interviewed for the position (Social Studies Teacher), I was told that I would be responsible for teaching four social studies classes. What I was not told was that I had to teach a social skills class as well as a speech class. Curricula for those courses were nonexistent, and they had no teacher’s editions for any of the social studies books. If I wanted worksheets, I had to seek out the one teacher in the building who was the “keeper of the worksheets”, and he would only give me what I needed for that week. It was virtually impossible to plan far in advance.
I could have gotten past those challenges, as I came from a school that is severely lacking in resources. I had a much harder time getting past the school’s rules, or lack thereof. Put simply, students were not held accountable for their behavior. They were allowed to curse out teachers without repercussions. Teachers were encouraged to either drop “f-bombs” back at their students or just ignore them. Punishing them was out of the question. Students were allowed to get up out of their seat without permission and could leave the classroom without the teacher stopping them. Students would get up during a lesson to go to the computers to check their Facebook. The style that brought me success at Richards, all the Orland schools, Huntington, and AAA Academy got me nothing but threats.
I quickly learned that the only way the students would do my lessons were if I didn’t give them lessons that I put any effort into. They would only do worksheets. No lectures, no discussions, and no experiential learning. I was told by a colleague that I should just “be happy that they’re showing up.” Call me a malcontent, but that was not enough for me. I tried to establish rules in my classroom, but I was met with resistance from students and staff. I was told that I could not command respect simply because I was the teacher. I had to “earn” their respect, and that I could earn this respect by letting some things slide. Again, not how I do things.
When I was at AAA Academy, I was blessed to maintain great relationships with the three individuals who assisted and/or co-taught with me in my classroom. I was not blessed with a similar relationship with my assistant at this school. The first thing she told me was how hard of a time I would have measuring up to my predecessor. She constantly questioned my apparently “strict” management techniques and even went as far to question the actual pedagogy of one of my lessons, despite not having any sort of formal educational training. Support was nonexistent.
I had to make the choice of sanity vs. salary. I chose sanity. I was not sleeping well. I felt like there was no way to improve the situation. I voiced my concerns daily with administration and was told that I would “get used to it”. I had no desire to get used to it. I took a leap of faith and walked away. Some of you may call me a quitter for that. That is your prerogative, but I think my track record in terms of relentless persistence speaks for itself. I had to make the decision that was best for me.
I decided to return to AAA Academy as a volunteer with hopes that enrollment will increase so I can resume my career there. A lot of people may not understand how or why I would do that, but for me, it’s good to be home.
Other things have happened the past month. My sister had a wedding and I gave a pretty good speech if I do say so myself (and I do). My only regret from the wedding was that the one person I wanted to take to the wedding could not be there with me, and I don’t know if she ever will be with me at any event like that. I am on the verge of finishing my second graduate school course with a 99%. Football is back, and my Seahawks are all sorts of amazing. I ran a 5k race and finished 6th out of 200 runners. The very person who cursed me out worse than anyone ever has back in May became one of my biggest supporters by August, and we enjoyed a nice little mini-lunch date with one another (though things went back to being a bit inconsistent after that).
I have been living in crazy times. Quite honestly, I’m drained. I’m exhausted, and I’m discouraged. I try to stay positive, but I’m beaten down. At this point, I hope I’ve reached the bottom of the pit and there’s no place to go but up. For those of you who have been there for me through all this, I can’t begin to express my gratitude. I’ll survive. I always do.
It started in the middle of August. I had not yet received my assignment for the following school year. I honestly didn’t think anything of it, as the school often flies by the seat of its pants and very little is ever known in advance. The social worker had texted me to get my input on a project, so I was feeling good about things. A few days later, I received my official notice that I had to report the following week for teacher orientation.
When we arrived at orientation, we were informed by the school’s director that decreases in both enrollment and public funding had led to the staff size getting drastically cut. Two days before the school year was supposed to begin, a sizable number of teachers were informed that they would be laid off. Unfortunately, I was one of these teachers. We were all still expected to come the next day for orientation, and the social worker and I wound up giving a killer presentation (despite the fact that I no longer was an active member of the staff).
Because the ax dropped so close to the beginning of the school year, I was in a bind concerning what to do. I had a great relationship with the staff and students, so I offered to volunteer in the afternoons to maintain a presence at the school. The school was more than willing to accept my free labor. In the meantime I applied for the few jobs that were available, thinking nothing of it considering how competitive the job market has been. To my surprise, my year of experience made me instantly more attractive. I received interviews at three schools: two public junior high schools and one alternative high school.
The first interview at a public school did not go as well as I would have liked. They utilized a number of specific programs that I did not have experience using, and I did not get that job. The interview went well with the alternative high school, and I was offered the job. Shortly after that, I had to meet with a high-ranking district administrator, and she and I seemed to have some philosophical differences concerning education and classroom management. After meeting with her, I was unsure whether or not I still had the position, so I interviewed with the other junior high (where two of my students from last school year happen to attend). The interview went well, and the superintendent called me to come in to discuss the position.
I was very excited to meet with the superintendent, and from our conversation on the phone I was led to believe that he was going to offer me the position. It was not until midway through our face to face conversation that I discovered that I was merely a finalist for the position. A few days later I found out that he decided to go with the other finalist. I was more than a bit miffed at being misled, but I was not bitter.
At this point, I decided to accept the teaching position at the alternative high school and was given a start date. I hoped that the transition would be smooth. It was not. I was thrown into the fire. When I interviewed for the position (Social Studies Teacher), I was told that I would be responsible for teaching four social studies classes. What I was not told was that I had to teach a social skills class as well as a speech class. Curricula for those courses were nonexistent, and they had no teacher’s editions for any of the social studies books. If I wanted worksheets, I had to seek out the one teacher in the building who was the “keeper of the worksheets”, and he would only give me what I needed for that week. It was virtually impossible to plan far in advance.
I could have gotten past those challenges, as I came from a school that is severely lacking in resources. I had a much harder time getting past the school’s rules, or lack thereof. Put simply, students were not held accountable for their behavior. They were allowed to curse out teachers without repercussions. Teachers were encouraged to either drop “f-bombs” back at their students or just ignore them. Punishing them was out of the question. Students were allowed to get up out of their seat without permission and could leave the classroom without the teacher stopping them. Students would get up during a lesson to go to the computers to check their Facebook. The style that brought me success at Richards, all the Orland schools, Huntington, and AAA Academy got me nothing but threats.
I quickly learned that the only way the students would do my lessons were if I didn’t give them lessons that I put any effort into. They would only do worksheets. No lectures, no discussions, and no experiential learning. I was told by a colleague that I should just “be happy that they’re showing up.” Call me a malcontent, but that was not enough for me. I tried to establish rules in my classroom, but I was met with resistance from students and staff. I was told that I could not command respect simply because I was the teacher. I had to “earn” their respect, and that I could earn this respect by letting some things slide. Again, not how I do things.
When I was at AAA Academy, I was blessed to maintain great relationships with the three individuals who assisted and/or co-taught with me in my classroom. I was not blessed with a similar relationship with my assistant at this school. The first thing she told me was how hard of a time I would have measuring up to my predecessor. She constantly questioned my apparently “strict” management techniques and even went as far to question the actual pedagogy of one of my lessons, despite not having any sort of formal educational training. Support was nonexistent.
I had to make the choice of sanity vs. salary. I chose sanity. I was not sleeping well. I felt like there was no way to improve the situation. I voiced my concerns daily with administration and was told that I would “get used to it”. I had no desire to get used to it. I took a leap of faith and walked away. Some of you may call me a quitter for that. That is your prerogative, but I think my track record in terms of relentless persistence speaks for itself. I had to make the decision that was best for me.
I decided to return to AAA Academy as a volunteer with hopes that enrollment will increase so I can resume my career there. A lot of people may not understand how or why I would do that, but for me, it’s good to be home.
Other things have happened the past month. My sister had a wedding and I gave a pretty good speech if I do say so myself (and I do). My only regret from the wedding was that the one person I wanted to take to the wedding could not be there with me, and I don’t know if she ever will be with me at any event like that. I am on the verge of finishing my second graduate school course with a 99%. Football is back, and my Seahawks are all sorts of amazing. I ran a 5k race and finished 6th out of 200 runners. The very person who cursed me out worse than anyone ever has back in May became one of my biggest supporters by August, and we enjoyed a nice little mini-lunch date with one another (though things went back to being a bit inconsistent after that).
I have been living in crazy times. Quite honestly, I’m drained. I’m exhausted, and I’m discouraged. I try to stay positive, but I’m beaten down. At this point, I hope I’ve reached the bottom of the pit and there’s no place to go but up. For those of you who have been there for me through all this, I can’t begin to express my gratitude. I’ll survive. I always do.
Saturday, August 10, 2013
A Letter to My 18 Year Old Self
A while back, I watched a video of Dale Earnhardt, Jr. reading a reflective letter he had written to his younger self. I was very moved by it, and I really liked the idea. Though I am still a relatively young man, I believe that I have learned enough over the past number of years to do something similar for myself. However, I am not merely limiting myself to one letter. Over the next year or so, I will be writing a few of these letters to myself at different ages, allowing me to reflect on my life in smaller chunks. This is the fourth and finall installment in the series.
Letter to Jakob Duehr: To be received August 29, 2005
Dear Jakob,
You have made it through the most difficult summer of your life to date. I know how miserable things have been, and I know you've felt it was your responsibility to hold things together as everything fell apart around you. All things considered, you did a good job, and you're a good kid.
Tomorrow starts the next chapter in your life. Things are going to change like crazy the next few years. You are going to start college, and the day after that, you are going to start your very first job. By the time September 2007 rolls around, you won't even be living in Tinley Park anymore! It's not going to be easy. You are going to have to work harder than you've ever worked before, and you are going to have to do it without your friends. Believe me when I tell you this: it gets better. Your first semester of college will be your toughest semester by far. The workload won't be an issue. You've always been a bright kid. But balancing school work with your job will be tough. Many Sunday nights you will not get home from work until 2:15. Then you'll get up for school at 5:30. You'll get 3 A's and 2 B+'s this semester. That will actually be the worst semester you have for all of college.
Let's talk a little about your time at Target. You will always realize that your time there was never meant to be long-term. At times, that will affect your work ethic. I wish I could say that you gave it your all at all times, but you didn't really put it together unless you felt particularly motivated. You'll bounce from department to department until you finally end up on a team with other like-minded people. After that first semester, you'll never have to close again. In fact, you'll spend the majority of your Target career getting up very early and working until the early afternoon. You'll like this, and you'll actually make some pretty good friends. You'll even go to a WWE event with a few of them!
As I said, college won't be an issue. Did you put forth a good effort? Certainly. Could you have given a little more? Probably. You will spend most of your college career in pursuit of a Summa Cum Laude graduation. To get that, you need to graduate with a 3.8 GPA. You wind up at 3.792. Yeah, falling just short doesn't just happen in high school. But ultimately you will enjoy college, make a few good friends, and learn from some great professors. They'll get to know you because you're always the first to class.
Things aren't all good for the next 3+ years, though. The Seahawks will make it to the Super Bowl. I know you're thinking right now, "Future Jakob, how in the world is THAT a bad thing?" Notice that I said that they made it to a Super Bowl. They lost, and it will upset you for a very long time. But that isn't what will haunt you most about that day. Everyone who knows you well knows that you love your Seahawks. Katie will call you during halftime of the game, and because you're frustrated with the score, you'll be a little short in the conversation. Not rude, just short. Cherish that conversation. It will be the last conversation the two of you ever have.
After Katie passes away, you begin to take comfort in food. In the month after her death, you will gain twenty pounds. That is not an exaggeration. You go from being average to being overweight. You have to start wearing 36x34 pants, and even those will be snug. Since you've never been much of a fan of physical activity, the weight will stay on and continue to grow for the entirety of your college career. In 2007, you'll try to lose that weight. You will fail. In 2008, you will try again. Fortunately, you will succeed far greater than you could even imagine.
Your love life is going to be nonexistent. You never have much luck with any of the girls from school, so you spend a good portion of your college years pursuing old camp flames. Neither of them want to or will want to date you, but you and I have never been great at dealing in reality, so you ignore the warning signs. You'll feel heartache and heartbreak again and again.
During your college career, you will have to observe at a number of schools. This will be great practice for student teaching (I should also mention that you really get behind the teaching profession because you fall out of love with politics by late 2006). You'll even meet someone. During your first observation experience, you'll still be eighteen years old. Someone will give you a newspaper, and you will see a mini-feature about a cute, quirky girl. Being the strange dude that you are, you'll add her on MySpace and you guys really hit it off. Eventually, you'll fall for her. She'll have none of it, and you two will lock horns frequently. She'll tell you that she's not attracted to you. There's your inspiration for losing weight. Oh, you guys never wind up together, but you do eventually become friends again.
Your friends won't always be around, but they will be there for you when you need them. You will go through stretches where you don't see or hear from some of them for an extended period of time, but you'll always know they care, and in many ways, it will prepare you for when they move away for good in the early 2010s. You'll learn a lot about yourself during this time. You'll soon realize that even if you don't necessarily understand someone's lifestyle choices, that shouldn't affect how much you care for them as a person. We are different people, and that is what makes us great. You actually become a lot less judgmental during this time.
Your college career won't be easy, but you'll make it. You always do. If there's anything I wish you could've learned sooner, it's to believe in yourself and to put forth your best effort at all times. Just because something is difficult doesn't mean it isn't worthwhile. You'll walk out of college a lot stronger than when you walked in. Thank your family and friends for that.
All the best,
Jakob Duehr, 2013 edition
Letter to Jakob Duehr: To be received August 29, 2005
Dear Jakob,
You have made it through the most difficult summer of your life to date. I know how miserable things have been, and I know you've felt it was your responsibility to hold things together as everything fell apart around you. All things considered, you did a good job, and you're a good kid.
Tomorrow starts the next chapter in your life. Things are going to change like crazy the next few years. You are going to start college, and the day after that, you are going to start your very first job. By the time September 2007 rolls around, you won't even be living in Tinley Park anymore! It's not going to be easy. You are going to have to work harder than you've ever worked before, and you are going to have to do it without your friends. Believe me when I tell you this: it gets better. Your first semester of college will be your toughest semester by far. The workload won't be an issue. You've always been a bright kid. But balancing school work with your job will be tough. Many Sunday nights you will not get home from work until 2:15. Then you'll get up for school at 5:30. You'll get 3 A's and 2 B+'s this semester. That will actually be the worst semester you have for all of college.
Let's talk a little about your time at Target. You will always realize that your time there was never meant to be long-term. At times, that will affect your work ethic. I wish I could say that you gave it your all at all times, but you didn't really put it together unless you felt particularly motivated. You'll bounce from department to department until you finally end up on a team with other like-minded people. After that first semester, you'll never have to close again. In fact, you'll spend the majority of your Target career getting up very early and working until the early afternoon. You'll like this, and you'll actually make some pretty good friends. You'll even go to a WWE event with a few of them!
As I said, college won't be an issue. Did you put forth a good effort? Certainly. Could you have given a little more? Probably. You will spend most of your college career in pursuit of a Summa Cum Laude graduation. To get that, you need to graduate with a 3.8 GPA. You wind up at 3.792. Yeah, falling just short doesn't just happen in high school. But ultimately you will enjoy college, make a few good friends, and learn from some great professors. They'll get to know you because you're always the first to class.
Things aren't all good for the next 3+ years, though. The Seahawks will make it to the Super Bowl. I know you're thinking right now, "Future Jakob, how in the world is THAT a bad thing?" Notice that I said that they made it to a Super Bowl. They lost, and it will upset you for a very long time. But that isn't what will haunt you most about that day. Everyone who knows you well knows that you love your Seahawks. Katie will call you during halftime of the game, and because you're frustrated with the score, you'll be a little short in the conversation. Not rude, just short. Cherish that conversation. It will be the last conversation the two of you ever have.
After Katie passes away, you begin to take comfort in food. In the month after her death, you will gain twenty pounds. That is not an exaggeration. You go from being average to being overweight. You have to start wearing 36x34 pants, and even those will be snug. Since you've never been much of a fan of physical activity, the weight will stay on and continue to grow for the entirety of your college career. In 2007, you'll try to lose that weight. You will fail. In 2008, you will try again. Fortunately, you will succeed far greater than you could even imagine.
Your love life is going to be nonexistent. You never have much luck with any of the girls from school, so you spend a good portion of your college years pursuing old camp flames. Neither of them want to or will want to date you, but you and I have never been great at dealing in reality, so you ignore the warning signs. You'll feel heartache and heartbreak again and again.
During your college career, you will have to observe at a number of schools. This will be great practice for student teaching (I should also mention that you really get behind the teaching profession because you fall out of love with politics by late 2006). You'll even meet someone. During your first observation experience, you'll still be eighteen years old. Someone will give you a newspaper, and you will see a mini-feature about a cute, quirky girl. Being the strange dude that you are, you'll add her on MySpace and you guys really hit it off. Eventually, you'll fall for her. She'll have none of it, and you two will lock horns frequently. She'll tell you that she's not attracted to you. There's your inspiration for losing weight. Oh, you guys never wind up together, but you do eventually become friends again.
Your friends won't always be around, but they will be there for you when you need them. You will go through stretches where you don't see or hear from some of them for an extended period of time, but you'll always know they care, and in many ways, it will prepare you for when they move away for good in the early 2010s. You'll learn a lot about yourself during this time. You'll soon realize that even if you don't necessarily understand someone's lifestyle choices, that shouldn't affect how much you care for them as a person. We are different people, and that is what makes us great. You actually become a lot less judgmental during this time.
Your college career won't be easy, but you'll make it. You always do. If there's anything I wish you could've learned sooner, it's to believe in yourself and to put forth your best effort at all times. Just because something is difficult doesn't mean it isn't worthwhile. You'll walk out of college a lot stronger than when you walked in. Thank your family and friends for that.
All the best,
Jakob Duehr, 2013 edition
Friday, July 12, 2013
On Optimism
Optimism gets a bit of a bad rap at times. There are unfavorable stigmas attached to those who prefer to look at the brighter side of life. At best, they are called idealists, and at worst they are labeled naïve. Quite honestly, this bothers me. I would be the last person to force my views on others, but I encourage a more favorable look at these optimists.
Optimism is not the enemy of realism. It is not the belief that everything WILL turn out well in the end. It is the hope that it COULD turn out well in the end. I’ll be honest. I am the type who does not like to accept defeat and who does not like to quit. I will hold on to the slightest glimmer of hope that things will go my way in the end. That said, when it comes to long-shots, I do not expect success in the end. I merely refuse to give up until all hope is lost.
Case-in-point: For the past four and a half years I have been interested in someone who, without going into a great measure of detail, is unavailable. It has not been easy, but there have been glimmers of hope. Because of that, I have not given up. Many people close to me think I’m crazy for it or think I’m being unrealistic. It’s not that, though. I don’t wake up every morning expecting for things to change. I fully realize (to borrow from Tom Petty) I’m runnin’ down a dream that may never come to fruition. That is okay. I would rather give everything I can and lose than give up when something looks improbable. I believe nothing’s over until it’s over.
I find life to be more enjoyable when looking on the brighter side. It’s no fun to feel perpetually defeated. Hope makes life significantly more palatable. Sure, things might not be better tomorrow. In fact, they might be worse. But there is hope that things will turn around tomorrow, and it is that hope that keeps me going. The idea that better is possible is enough to keep me going.
There is a belief that optimistic people are naïve and therefore get hurt more often and more easily. That is partly true. One of the most common side effects of hope is disappointment. We hold out for something, but more often than not, it doesn’t happen. That’s the reality of life. Our hearts are a bit more fragile. But I am fine with that. It is not naïveté. I know that hope leaves me more susceptible to disappointment, but it’s a tradeoff I am willing to make. One hoped-for success is more powerful to me than a thousand disappointments. I would rather hope and hurt than never hope and feel defeated all the time.
I like to look at life positively. That doesn’t make me Lloyd Christmas. I do try to find the best in things. I don’t that things will be great, but every day I wake up with the notion that they can be. I believe in staying strong and never giving up. Care to join me?
Optimism is not the enemy of realism. It is not the belief that everything WILL turn out well in the end. It is the hope that it COULD turn out well in the end. I’ll be honest. I am the type who does not like to accept defeat and who does not like to quit. I will hold on to the slightest glimmer of hope that things will go my way in the end. That said, when it comes to long-shots, I do not expect success in the end. I merely refuse to give up until all hope is lost.
Case-in-point: For the past four and a half years I have been interested in someone who, without going into a great measure of detail, is unavailable. It has not been easy, but there have been glimmers of hope. Because of that, I have not given up. Many people close to me think I’m crazy for it or think I’m being unrealistic. It’s not that, though. I don’t wake up every morning expecting for things to change. I fully realize (to borrow from Tom Petty) I’m runnin’ down a dream that may never come to fruition. That is okay. I would rather give everything I can and lose than give up when something looks improbable. I believe nothing’s over until it’s over.
I find life to be more enjoyable when looking on the brighter side. It’s no fun to feel perpetually defeated. Hope makes life significantly more palatable. Sure, things might not be better tomorrow. In fact, they might be worse. But there is hope that things will turn around tomorrow, and it is that hope that keeps me going. The idea that better is possible is enough to keep me going.
There is a belief that optimistic people are naïve and therefore get hurt more often and more easily. That is partly true. One of the most common side effects of hope is disappointment. We hold out for something, but more often than not, it doesn’t happen. That’s the reality of life. Our hearts are a bit more fragile. But I am fine with that. It is not naïveté. I know that hope leaves me more susceptible to disappointment, but it’s a tradeoff I am willing to make. One hoped-for success is more powerful to me than a thousand disappointments. I would rather hope and hurt than never hope and feel defeated all the time.
I like to look at life positively. That doesn’t make me Lloyd Christmas. I do try to find the best in things. I don’t that things will be great, but every day I wake up with the notion that they can be. I believe in staying strong and never giving up. Care to join me?
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Mastering My Craft
Earlier this year in accordance with my 26th birthday, I compiled a list of 26 things that I wanted to accomplish as a 26 year old. A little over three months in and I have made serious headway on my list. I’ve knocked out over half the items. There is one item in particular that I am proud of, and I thought I’d share it with you.
When I finished college in December 2008 and received my diploma in January 2009, I did so with the idea that I wasn’t truly “done” with school. It was always my goal to go on to graduate school. When I was younger, I thought that would be law school, but as I grew disenchanted with politics, I decided that I would eventually get a Master’s degree in education.
Future plans took a backseat because things never really took off after college. I happened to graduate at a time when the teaching job market fell apart, and I wanted to wait until I had steady employment before I made the financial commitment to graduate school. From 2009 to 2012, my primary focus was finding a job.
Now that I have my feet on the ground in a school, it’s time for me to get the ball rolling on enhancing my future. Starting Monday I will be enrolled in a Master’s program in curriculum and instruction. I worked hard to get where I am, but now is certainly not the time to rest on my laurels. As a teacher, I need to do everything I can to continue to grow as an educator. A graduate degree not only will make me more attractive in my future endeavors, but it will also provide me the tools to hone my skills. It is an investment in my present and my future.
I must admit it will be different returning to the other side of the classroom. I have lacked confidence in many areas of my life, but I have always been confident in my ability to get it done in the classroom both as a teacher and as a student. That said, I would be lying to you if I said I wasn’t a bit apprehensive. I’m a bit worried about rust and if I can reach the lofty standards I set for myself. I don’t know if I will be able to reach such heights, but I can guarantee that I will do my best. I am looking forward to starting this eighteen month journey, but I am even more excited to finish!
When I finished college in December 2008 and received my diploma in January 2009, I did so with the idea that I wasn’t truly “done” with school. It was always my goal to go on to graduate school. When I was younger, I thought that would be law school, but as I grew disenchanted with politics, I decided that I would eventually get a Master’s degree in education.
Future plans took a backseat because things never really took off after college. I happened to graduate at a time when the teaching job market fell apart, and I wanted to wait until I had steady employment before I made the financial commitment to graduate school. From 2009 to 2012, my primary focus was finding a job.
Now that I have my feet on the ground in a school, it’s time for me to get the ball rolling on enhancing my future. Starting Monday I will be enrolled in a Master’s program in curriculum and instruction. I worked hard to get where I am, but now is certainly not the time to rest on my laurels. As a teacher, I need to do everything I can to continue to grow as an educator. A graduate degree not only will make me more attractive in my future endeavors, but it will also provide me the tools to hone my skills. It is an investment in my present and my future.
I must admit it will be different returning to the other side of the classroom. I have lacked confidence in many areas of my life, but I have always been confident in my ability to get it done in the classroom both as a teacher and as a student. That said, I would be lying to you if I said I wasn’t a bit apprehensive. I’m a bit worried about rust and if I can reach the lofty standards I set for myself. I don’t know if I will be able to reach such heights, but I can guarantee that I will do my best. I am looking forward to starting this eighteen month journey, but I am even more excited to finish!
Sunday, June 30, 2013
A Tale of Two Marathons, Part 2: I Ran Another Marathon Because I'm a Masochist
I’ll probably never run a marathon again. I don’t need to. I set a goal for myself back in December, and I achieved that goal. I’ll find something else to strive to achieve.
I said that. Actually I wrote that here when I recapped my journey from out of shape to marathon man. Yet here I am, having completed another marathon. So why did I do it, how did it go, and what is next for me?
I will answer each of those questions individually, but before I answer the first question, I need to give some honest background as to why I ran the first marathon. In last year’s post, I openly discussed my weight loss, my newfound good shape, and my desire to rise to a challenge or lofty goal. Those weren’t the only reasons. There were two other reasons that previously went unspoken.
My preparation for the 2012 marathon coincided with my third year as a substitute teacher. The job market continued to get bleaker and bleaker, and I did not know what the future held for me. I felt like I had been treading water for years. I wasn’t a total bum, but I wasn’t progressing either. With my sister finishing up her degree and my cousin finishing up med school, I wanted to do something special, something that required a lot of effort and determination. Put bluntly, I wanted people (friends and family, not just one or the other) to have a reason to be proud of me. So I trained like a maniac. And it worked. People started to focus on my drive and tenacity, and that began to become what I was defined by.
I also wanted to do something amazing because I wanted to reward myself. As previously stated, I was not working a full time job, and I felt like it would seem foolish to go on a vacation with things the way they were. I decided to run the marathon so I could justifiably take a trip out west thereafter. I felt like it was the time to make a big move on the Jannelle front, and a trip out there was that big move. As things turned out, my trip got turned upside down and I didn’t make it to see her. But my desire to see her was one of the driving points for me to complete my marathon.
So why did I do it this time? I had a full time job, and an “admirable” one at that. I wound up meeting up with her later last summer in Chicago, and shortly after that things hit a bit of a snag. What made me decide to commit to another marathon?
I am the type of person who needs to have something to strive for or look forward to. Whether an exciting event or a long term goal, my life feels more worth living when there is a purpose. A marathon is a lofty, concrete goal that requires a specific amount of work and endurance. I knew what it took, and I wanted to do it again for me. Not for anyone else. Not for their approval either. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do this in the midst of the stresses of a full time job at an alternative school and without a girl I was desperately trying to impress.
I was also displeased by the way the previous marathon ended. I flew through the first 20 miles and then hit a wall. I wanted to end this race more happily than I ended the previous one.
So my dad I trained once more. This marathon was in Dubuque, Iowa, and ran along a trail. Unfortunately for us, there was a massive thunderstorm right before the race started. A couple inches of rain fell, and it delayed the start of the race by two hours. By the time the race began, the gravel trail was slop, and the weather was nasty and humid.
I was unhappy due to the conditions, but I was fine in the beginning. The trail was bad, but I toughed it out. Unfortunately, at Mile 16, I twisted my ankle in a sinkhole caused by the storm. As I braced myself to stop myself from wiping out completely, I strained the calf and Achilles tendon on my right leg. I gutted it out until Mile 18 when I realized that I would not be able to complete the race in a run.
At that point, I had a choice, and both of them were a bit humbling: call it a day due to injury, or physically drag myself to the finish? I had come too far to quit, and even though I had 8 miles to go, I dragged my body to the end. I couldn’t run by the time I got to the finish line, but I still had a smile on my face. It took me an hour longer than last year, but I made it. I didn’t quit when I could have and perhaps should have.
As I crossed the finish line, I knew that was the last marathon that I would ever run. It’s just not worth it to me to put forth that much time and effort in training and allow my legs to feel like junk for the better part of two months. I am not done running, however. It is my new goal to get my 5k time down below 19 minutes. Once my body is fully recovered from this marathon, I wouldn’t bet against me. I’ve got the drive to do it.
So what’s next? I don’t know yet. I don’t need to run another marathon. Every day life is a marathon. I’m sure I will set some lofty goal for myself. I’m happier that way. I don’t know where I’m going yet, but I’m looking forward to getting there. See you at the finish line.
I said that. Actually I wrote that here when I recapped my journey from out of shape to marathon man. Yet here I am, having completed another marathon. So why did I do it, how did it go, and what is next for me?
I will answer each of those questions individually, but before I answer the first question, I need to give some honest background as to why I ran the first marathon. In last year’s post, I openly discussed my weight loss, my newfound good shape, and my desire to rise to a challenge or lofty goal. Those weren’t the only reasons. There were two other reasons that previously went unspoken.
My preparation for the 2012 marathon coincided with my third year as a substitute teacher. The job market continued to get bleaker and bleaker, and I did not know what the future held for me. I felt like I had been treading water for years. I wasn’t a total bum, but I wasn’t progressing either. With my sister finishing up her degree and my cousin finishing up med school, I wanted to do something special, something that required a lot of effort and determination. Put bluntly, I wanted people (friends and family, not just one or the other) to have a reason to be proud of me. So I trained like a maniac. And it worked. People started to focus on my drive and tenacity, and that began to become what I was defined by.
I also wanted to do something amazing because I wanted to reward myself. As previously stated, I was not working a full time job, and I felt like it would seem foolish to go on a vacation with things the way they were. I decided to run the marathon so I could justifiably take a trip out west thereafter. I felt like it was the time to make a big move on the Jannelle front, and a trip out there was that big move. As things turned out, my trip got turned upside down and I didn’t make it to see her. But my desire to see her was one of the driving points for me to complete my marathon.
So why did I do it this time? I had a full time job, and an “admirable” one at that. I wound up meeting up with her later last summer in Chicago, and shortly after that things hit a bit of a snag. What made me decide to commit to another marathon?
I am the type of person who needs to have something to strive for or look forward to. Whether an exciting event or a long term goal, my life feels more worth living when there is a purpose. A marathon is a lofty, concrete goal that requires a specific amount of work and endurance. I knew what it took, and I wanted to do it again for me. Not for anyone else. Not for their approval either. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do this in the midst of the stresses of a full time job at an alternative school and without a girl I was desperately trying to impress.
I was also displeased by the way the previous marathon ended. I flew through the first 20 miles and then hit a wall. I wanted to end this race more happily than I ended the previous one.
So my dad I trained once more. This marathon was in Dubuque, Iowa, and ran along a trail. Unfortunately for us, there was a massive thunderstorm right before the race started. A couple inches of rain fell, and it delayed the start of the race by two hours. By the time the race began, the gravel trail was slop, and the weather was nasty and humid.
I was unhappy due to the conditions, but I was fine in the beginning. The trail was bad, but I toughed it out. Unfortunately, at Mile 16, I twisted my ankle in a sinkhole caused by the storm. As I braced myself to stop myself from wiping out completely, I strained the calf and Achilles tendon on my right leg. I gutted it out until Mile 18 when I realized that I would not be able to complete the race in a run.
At that point, I had a choice, and both of them were a bit humbling: call it a day due to injury, or physically drag myself to the finish? I had come too far to quit, and even though I had 8 miles to go, I dragged my body to the end. I couldn’t run by the time I got to the finish line, but I still had a smile on my face. It took me an hour longer than last year, but I made it. I didn’t quit when I could have and perhaps should have.
As I crossed the finish line, I knew that was the last marathon that I would ever run. It’s just not worth it to me to put forth that much time and effort in training and allow my legs to feel like junk for the better part of two months. I am not done running, however. It is my new goal to get my 5k time down below 19 minutes. Once my body is fully recovered from this marathon, I wouldn’t bet against me. I’ve got the drive to do it.
So what’s next? I don’t know yet. I don’t need to run another marathon. Every day life is a marathon. I’m sure I will set some lofty goal for myself. I’m happier that way. I don’t know where I’m going yet, but I’m looking forward to getting there. See you at the finish line.
A Tale of Two Marathons, Part 1: I Survived (and actually enjoyed) a Year at an Alternative School
Greetings and salutations, my dear readers. I wouldn’t blame you if you forgot this site existed or if you thought that I forgot it existed. The last three months have been challenging for different reasons, but now that I have scaled some of these mountains, it’s about time I shared some of my life with you.
Most people know by this point that last August I accepted a teaching position at an alternative school. It was far from my dream job, but I was so eager to get into the teaching game after three years on the sidelines as a substitute teacher that I jumped at the opportunity. While I was excited for the new opportunity, I was more than a bit apprehensive as well. For those who are unfamiliar with what an alternative school is, it is a school for students who for one reason or another were expelled from their public school district. These infractions may include but are not limited to fighting, insubordination, possession and/or distribution of illegal substances, and possession of a weapon. Each of my students came to me for one of those reasons. That said, I never worked a day fearing for my own life or my own safety.
The first lesson I learned at this position was to never get too comfortable, because there is no such thing as a status quo. Everything is fluid and subject to change. When I was hired, I was placed in a classroom as an assistant to a veteran teacher who retired from the Chicago Public School System. About a month after that, I was given a classroom of my own. I started with five students ranging from fifth to seventh grade. The small group atmosphere really allowed us to create our own identity as a class and my own identity as their fearless leader.
As time went on, our class met with ebbs and flows. Due to the nature of our school, some students come, and some students go. As our class grew, I was blessed with two assistants: a female in the morning and a male in the afternoon. They really focused on the disciplinary aspect of the job and allowed me to key in on the academics (which, given my background, was more of my strong suit). We went from five up to seven before the holidays.
With our school being private, our livelihood really depends on strong enrollment. Unfortunately, our enrollment was below projections during the first semester, and by the time the holidays hit, we had to lay off a portion of our staff. I lost one of my assistants. When we came back from break, things still had not improved. I was called into my bosses’ office, and I was informed that they were going to have to lay me off at the end of the week. It was a really deflating feeling, and I had no idea what to do next. Fortunately, I was brought into their office again the next day and was informed that due to some shifts, I would be retained.
While I felt very blessed to still have a job, the next three months were some of the most challenging I have ever had. A number of my students stopped getting along, and given their volatile natures, I had to be on alert at all times. My classroom kept growing, and I started to feel overwhelmed. Without going into great detail, some of the kids decided to stop behaving, and it made things very difficult on me. Thankfully, due to steadily increasing enrollment, the school saw it fit to hire a co-teacher for me. We got along very well, and it eased a lot of my stress over the last two months.
Now that I am no longer a rookie teacher (and it took me long enough to shed that tag), I feel qualified to share some of my thoughts on the year, what I learned, and what worked. I have learned that adaptability is essential to success. It is important to be prepared, but in a place like this, things rarely (if ever) go according to plan. Therefore, I have to roll with it. Those who have known me for a long time know that this has not always been an area of strength, but as the school year progressed, I found myself getting better at it.
I also realized that it does me no good to complain about things. I will be the first to admit that at most of my previous places of employment I could be a bit of a malcontent at times. At this job I dug in, put my head down, and got to work. If I didn’t like something, I dealt with it. I must be getting older, because I realize that being the good soldier is not an option but instead a necessity.
The last major lesson I learned was that life is a marathon and not a sprint, and teaching is no exception. You can’t burn yourself out in September when you have to make it to the beginning of June. Always bring your A-game, but look at the big picture.
As I look back on this school year (and I intentionally waited a little while after the school year ended to write this so that I wouldn’t be clouded by emotion), I can certainly call it a success. Ultimately, Room 106 worked. And why did it work? There are two primary causes of our success.
The first cause of our success was the students themselves. I could be the best teacher in the world, and it would not mean a thing if I did not have students willing to work. Yes, my students were brought to me because of their poor choices, but they are merely kids. If people judged me for the things I did thirteen years ago, I would never have gotten this job. They bought into to this line of thinking: Poor choices brought you here; good choices will be your ticket out. They were not put in a bottomless pit. There is a light at the end of their tunnel, and the future is bright if they stay on the straight and narrow. Thankfully, most of them understood this.
The other cause of our success was that I don’t do things like normal teachers. Scratch that. I don’t do things like normal people. I can’t do normal. It doesn’t work for me. I don’t teach like Jakob Duehr trying to be a teacher. I teach like Jakob Duehr trying to be Jakob Duehr. We have Connect 4 tournaments. I play basketball with the kids in dress shoes and a tie (and can still dunk with those clothes on). I answer questions with song lyrics. Every day is a new opportunity to make another WWE reference. Most of these kids do not have good home lives. By not only seeing me as a teacher but also as an actual person, the students get actual enjoyment out of coming to school.
If the above paragraph came across as arrogant, that was certainly not my intent. I am merely saying that allowing students to see teachers for who they are (without sacrificing hard work or professionalism) creates a more welcome environment for the students. I also could not do what I do without the support of the administration. They give me the freedom to be me. If that means taking off my tie to let the students know I mean business, then so be it. All I have to do now is put my hands near my throat and students know that they better shape up.
To sum up a pile of text, it was a good year. I am ultimately pleased with how it went, but there is plenty of work left to do. I don’t see myself at an alternative school forever, but for this point in time, I am where I need to be. I hope to continue to grow as a person and as an educator, and I hope that next year is a success as well.
Most people know by this point that last August I accepted a teaching position at an alternative school. It was far from my dream job, but I was so eager to get into the teaching game after three years on the sidelines as a substitute teacher that I jumped at the opportunity. While I was excited for the new opportunity, I was more than a bit apprehensive as well. For those who are unfamiliar with what an alternative school is, it is a school for students who for one reason or another were expelled from their public school district. These infractions may include but are not limited to fighting, insubordination, possession and/or distribution of illegal substances, and possession of a weapon. Each of my students came to me for one of those reasons. That said, I never worked a day fearing for my own life or my own safety.
The first lesson I learned at this position was to never get too comfortable, because there is no such thing as a status quo. Everything is fluid and subject to change. When I was hired, I was placed in a classroom as an assistant to a veteran teacher who retired from the Chicago Public School System. About a month after that, I was given a classroom of my own. I started with five students ranging from fifth to seventh grade. The small group atmosphere really allowed us to create our own identity as a class and my own identity as their fearless leader.
As time went on, our class met with ebbs and flows. Due to the nature of our school, some students come, and some students go. As our class grew, I was blessed with two assistants: a female in the morning and a male in the afternoon. They really focused on the disciplinary aspect of the job and allowed me to key in on the academics (which, given my background, was more of my strong suit). We went from five up to seven before the holidays.
With our school being private, our livelihood really depends on strong enrollment. Unfortunately, our enrollment was below projections during the first semester, and by the time the holidays hit, we had to lay off a portion of our staff. I lost one of my assistants. When we came back from break, things still had not improved. I was called into my bosses’ office, and I was informed that they were going to have to lay me off at the end of the week. It was a really deflating feeling, and I had no idea what to do next. Fortunately, I was brought into their office again the next day and was informed that due to some shifts, I would be retained.
While I felt very blessed to still have a job, the next three months were some of the most challenging I have ever had. A number of my students stopped getting along, and given their volatile natures, I had to be on alert at all times. My classroom kept growing, and I started to feel overwhelmed. Without going into great detail, some of the kids decided to stop behaving, and it made things very difficult on me. Thankfully, due to steadily increasing enrollment, the school saw it fit to hire a co-teacher for me. We got along very well, and it eased a lot of my stress over the last two months.
Now that I am no longer a rookie teacher (and it took me long enough to shed that tag), I feel qualified to share some of my thoughts on the year, what I learned, and what worked. I have learned that adaptability is essential to success. It is important to be prepared, but in a place like this, things rarely (if ever) go according to plan. Therefore, I have to roll with it. Those who have known me for a long time know that this has not always been an area of strength, but as the school year progressed, I found myself getting better at it.
I also realized that it does me no good to complain about things. I will be the first to admit that at most of my previous places of employment I could be a bit of a malcontent at times. At this job I dug in, put my head down, and got to work. If I didn’t like something, I dealt with it. I must be getting older, because I realize that being the good soldier is not an option but instead a necessity.
The last major lesson I learned was that life is a marathon and not a sprint, and teaching is no exception. You can’t burn yourself out in September when you have to make it to the beginning of June. Always bring your A-game, but look at the big picture.
As I look back on this school year (and I intentionally waited a little while after the school year ended to write this so that I wouldn’t be clouded by emotion), I can certainly call it a success. Ultimately, Room 106 worked. And why did it work? There are two primary causes of our success.
The first cause of our success was the students themselves. I could be the best teacher in the world, and it would not mean a thing if I did not have students willing to work. Yes, my students were brought to me because of their poor choices, but they are merely kids. If people judged me for the things I did thirteen years ago, I would never have gotten this job. They bought into to this line of thinking: Poor choices brought you here; good choices will be your ticket out. They were not put in a bottomless pit. There is a light at the end of their tunnel, and the future is bright if they stay on the straight and narrow. Thankfully, most of them understood this.
The other cause of our success was that I don’t do things like normal teachers. Scratch that. I don’t do things like normal people. I can’t do normal. It doesn’t work for me. I don’t teach like Jakob Duehr trying to be a teacher. I teach like Jakob Duehr trying to be Jakob Duehr. We have Connect 4 tournaments. I play basketball with the kids in dress shoes and a tie (and can still dunk with those clothes on). I answer questions with song lyrics. Every day is a new opportunity to make another WWE reference. Most of these kids do not have good home lives. By not only seeing me as a teacher but also as an actual person, the students get actual enjoyment out of coming to school.
If the above paragraph came across as arrogant, that was certainly not my intent. I am merely saying that allowing students to see teachers for who they are (without sacrificing hard work or professionalism) creates a more welcome environment for the students. I also could not do what I do without the support of the administration. They give me the freedom to be me. If that means taking off my tie to let the students know I mean business, then so be it. All I have to do now is put my hands near my throat and students know that they better shape up.
To sum up a pile of text, it was a good year. I am ultimately pleased with how it went, but there is plenty of work left to do. I don’t see myself at an alternative school forever, but for this point in time, I am where I need to be. I hope to continue to grow as a person and as an educator, and I hope that next year is a success as well.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
A Note to My 16 Year Old Self
A little while back, I watched a video of Dale Earnhardt, Jr. reading a reflective letter he had written to his younger self. I was very moved by it, and I really liked the idea. Though I am still a relatively young man, I believe that I have learned enough over the past number of years to do something similar for myself. However, I am not merely limiting myself to one letter. Over the next year or so, I will be writing a few of these letters to myself at different ages, allowing me to reflect on my life in smaller chunks. This is the third in the series.
Letter to Jakob Duehr: to be received April 4, 2003
Dear Jakob,
Happy birthday, kid! You’ve made it to your 16th birthday. And yes, things are going to be pretty sweet. You’ve survived the past two years, and we both know it wasn’t easy. You didn’t ask for any of the hardships you’ve faced, but you’ve pushed past them and have even learned about yourself in the process. This letter should give you exactly what you need to get through the next two years. I’m only going to give you enough to take you through the end of high school.
I’m sorry, but you won’t be getting your driver’s license today. Your school district does things a little weird, and you’re still a couple days away from getting your learner’s permit. Sorry!
Aside from that disappointment, you are about to enter one of the happiest periods of your life. You left one youth group to focus solely on another, and it is probably the best decision you’ve made to this point. The friends you’ve had for years will grow even nearer and dearer to your heart. This upcoming summer you will hang out with them almost everyday. You’ll even start to get burned out with going out all the time. Don’t. Enjoy this time. Cherish this time.
You are actually only a couple days away from getting your first girlfriend. Congratulations. It won’t last long, but that’s your choice. It’ll feel nice to be cared about. Don’t get used to it. After this you will embark on a series of failed pursuits. Some blows will be cushioned softer than others. The girls you meet from church camp will be soft blows. The girls you meet from high school, not so much.
In the past the adversity you faced was not your fault. I am sorry to tell you that the adversity you will face now will be trials of your own creation. You still lack the one thing you need: confidence. This lack of confidence will cause you to do some strange things, especially from behind a computer. You will alienate yourself with a large group of people at your school because of the decisions YOU made. You will tirelessly work to correct these problems, but you will only dig deeper holes for yourself. You will fear walking through certain hallways.
Despite all that, you’ll make it through. You start to learn a little more about yourself, and you gain some maturity along the way. By mid-2004, you have a grasp of who you are and who you want to be, and you will work to become the person you want to be. 2003 and 2004 will be the two best years of the entire decade.
On a side note, I thought I’d share this with you: one night in late 2003, you randomly flip through channels and stumble upon Monday Night Raw. This rekindles a love for WWE that still exists. You wouldn’t believe how big your collection of wrestling stuff gets.
By 2005, things start to get a little tough. You learn that you can try as hard as you can but still fall just short. You’ll miss out on a couple full-ride scholarships. We both know how badly you wanted to get one of those. Don’t beat yourself up over it. It will be okay. Trust me.
So, enjoy today. Enjoy the next two years. They’ll be tough at times, but they’ll be ultimately enjoyable. Blow out those candles and buckle up. It’s going to be a wild ride!
Sincerely,
You, 10 Years Later
Letter to Jakob Duehr: to be received April 4, 2003
Dear Jakob,
Happy birthday, kid! You’ve made it to your 16th birthday. And yes, things are going to be pretty sweet. You’ve survived the past two years, and we both know it wasn’t easy. You didn’t ask for any of the hardships you’ve faced, but you’ve pushed past them and have even learned about yourself in the process. This letter should give you exactly what you need to get through the next two years. I’m only going to give you enough to take you through the end of high school.
I’m sorry, but you won’t be getting your driver’s license today. Your school district does things a little weird, and you’re still a couple days away from getting your learner’s permit. Sorry!
Aside from that disappointment, you are about to enter one of the happiest periods of your life. You left one youth group to focus solely on another, and it is probably the best decision you’ve made to this point. The friends you’ve had for years will grow even nearer and dearer to your heart. This upcoming summer you will hang out with them almost everyday. You’ll even start to get burned out with going out all the time. Don’t. Enjoy this time. Cherish this time.
You are actually only a couple days away from getting your first girlfriend. Congratulations. It won’t last long, but that’s your choice. It’ll feel nice to be cared about. Don’t get used to it. After this you will embark on a series of failed pursuits. Some blows will be cushioned softer than others. The girls you meet from church camp will be soft blows. The girls you meet from high school, not so much.
In the past the adversity you faced was not your fault. I am sorry to tell you that the adversity you will face now will be trials of your own creation. You still lack the one thing you need: confidence. This lack of confidence will cause you to do some strange things, especially from behind a computer. You will alienate yourself with a large group of people at your school because of the decisions YOU made. You will tirelessly work to correct these problems, but you will only dig deeper holes for yourself. You will fear walking through certain hallways.
Despite all that, you’ll make it through. You start to learn a little more about yourself, and you gain some maturity along the way. By mid-2004, you have a grasp of who you are and who you want to be, and you will work to become the person you want to be. 2003 and 2004 will be the two best years of the entire decade.
On a side note, I thought I’d share this with you: one night in late 2003, you randomly flip through channels and stumble upon Monday Night Raw. This rekindles a love for WWE that still exists. You wouldn’t believe how big your collection of wrestling stuff gets.
By 2005, things start to get a little tough. You learn that you can try as hard as you can but still fall just short. You’ll miss out on a couple full-ride scholarships. We both know how badly you wanted to get one of those. Don’t beat yourself up over it. It will be okay. Trust me.
So, enjoy today. Enjoy the next two years. They’ll be tough at times, but they’ll be ultimately enjoyable. Blow out those candles and buckle up. It’s going to be a wild ride!
Sincerely,
You, 10 Years Later
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